Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
by geophf
Summary: Verse VI: I’m an easy going, adventurous bloke in the midst of a den of gorgeous, Slovakian female predators. Succubae. A bloody dream come true, right? Yeah…well…not so much.
1. Apologia: Denali Coven

**Apologia, or, raison d'être.**

I had the pleasure of reading Eowyn77's story "Fair Game" (and you should have that pleasure, too), and it got me to thinking of the Cullen's extended family, the Denali Coven. Here is a gathering of vampires who have lived much longer than Carlisle and have come, on their own, to a decision to abstain from human blood, and have been abstaining for the last two hundred years … that is, longer than any other vampire other than Carlisle.

Oh, and three of them are succubæ.

Oh, and other vampires have joined with their coven, following their choice.

Now, isn't that a much more rich, much more interesting story to tell than the Cullens and Hale and Whitlock and … ? Well, hanywey. Some of you may argue that there's enough source material in the Cullen family, thank you very much … some of you are correct, but I took a fancy to the Denali Coven, thanks to the deft attention that Eowyn77 paid it (and she has the gall to call Tanya her Mary Sue! Mary Sue? With her writing Tanya wasn't Mary Sue, she was, well, Tanya!)

But how to tell their story? A thousand years of it? That's quite a bit of work, now, isn't it? Yes, it is. So, instead of telling their story, I'll ask them to tell it. So, this isn't really a story at all, but a series of loosely connected Chautauqua using Wallace Stevens' poem "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird." Why use this poem? Well, that will come out in the telling. Oh, and read _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance._ Firstly because it's required reading, and secondly, you'll learn (many things, but also, particularly) what a Chautauqua is.

The first story that came to me was: what was Kate thinking as she made her play for Edward. This would be in verse IV. The next story that came to me was why Irina was so cool: so cold and distant. That is verse I.

So, this is how this works. Each chapter heading will be the particular verse of Wallace Steven's poem followed by the narrative of the character sharing her story. Since I've got chapter four done first, the first three chapters will be place-holders until the stories of those chapters tell themselves to me. I envisioned this as a yarn spun only by Kate, but perhaps each chapter will be told by a member of the Denali coven and their "guests"?

Oh, this story is rated "T" for a reason. It is not lemony in nature, but it does cover mature material (but what a teen can handle these days, I believe), particularly it covers what it is to be or to encounter a vampire or succubus, as a human, ... or as a vampire. Some of the imagery invoked in these chautauqua will be compelling, but not particularly, erhm, life-affirming.

Along with the influence of "Fair Game," this story includes, with permission, characters from runaway-xo's universe ("Alaska" and "Lilly and Lucas"), two youngster: Lilly (whom I have transferred into Kate's guardianship ... oh, she's a vampire) and Lucas (a.k.a. "lunch," but Lilly was already abstaining for 200 years. Not that meant much: the Volturi sometimes are not the best listeners when you're rattling off your food preferences).

So, this story is AU in that regard, but it's further AU in that it flows along the line of my story "My Sister Rosalie" (MSR). I say this not to require reading MSR as a prerequisite, but to inform you, my dear reader, that some tangents of conversation when followed may end up in foreign territory, so if you say to yourself: _"Hey, I thought Lady Didyme was destroyed!"_ then you would think correctly with respect to the plot of the canon, but in MSR she makes a "reappearance." Like I said, there are tangential differences to the canon; they are deliberate.

Speaking of questions of canon, I employ a concept of succubæ that seems to be in some consensus here in fandom, and also hinted at in "Fair Game," and that is that succubæ are naturally more powerful than vampires. One such power is that of _adeur_ that I obtained from various sources via the story "Pomme de Sange" by destileotie. That story and "Our New Life" by KrysCullen on twilighted-dot-net gave me some back story to work with on the mechanics (powers and how they work) for succubæ, and I am indebted to these stories for providing me this information.

And, as is my wont in my apologiæ, I find I must also offer an apology on top of my explanation. geophf is all about the _double entendre,_ isn't he? 13 Ways, in essence, really isn't a story, _per se._ It's more of a meditative work. It looks at a character in each verse, following the theme of the verse in "Blackbirds." In this light, things such as plot or have the character explain every concept on which they reflect goes against the grain of this work. You may, perhaps, consider this work as poetical, or, perhaps, epigrammatic. So, reading this, it's best not so much to think, "Oh, what's going on? What does she mean by that?" The important thing is to feel what the character is feeling, to see what they see. When you do that and let go inconsequentials — such as "understanding" — do you assume the mind of the character speaking a little better?

In other words, do you feel, in verse I, Irina's arrogance and her boredom, and when these changes interrupt her narcissistic nihilistic ennui, do you feel the pique? Feel the character and be the character: that is what this "story" is about.

When you do reach this state of _in alter_ whomever, you can take that identity back with you when you reread the books. "Oh!" you'll now say, "that's why Irina went to the Volturi!" Or: "That's what it's like to lead a coven of succubæ with your mother destroyed. Poor Tanya, always being looked to for all the answer with no one to lean on herself; no wonder she wanted Edward!" And so on for each of the characters represented here. If you do that, I consider this work a success.

So, without further ado, I present thirteen ways of looking at the Denali coven. There are many more ways to look at them than just thirteen with much more than three thousand years of shared existence to draw from, but this is a start. Perhaps this set of chautauqua will lead you to your own discoveries of this coven?

**Synopses**

**Chapter 1 **"Apologia": This chapter. Explains the raison d'être and influences of this story.

**Chapter 2** "I. Snowy Mountains — Irina": Among twenty snowy mountains Irina, the Yuki-Onna (雪女) sits, coldly waiting for dinner, and contemplates what love truly is.

**Chapter 3** "II. Three Minds — Eleazar": Tanya, Irina, Kate. Three entirely different minds, but inextricably linked. Just like my old masters, the three crows (三羽烏): Lords Aro, Caius, and Marcus. Would my new coven replace the seat of power that the Volturi had held for 3000 years?

**Chapter 4** "III. Autumn Pantomime — Tanya": We all pantomime something, don't we? Lilly and Lucas pretend to be normal high school students on their first day of school this cool Autumn day. While, I, dropping them off, pantomime being the leader of the Denali coven, as I have for the past 450 years.

**Chapter 5** "IV. A Man and a Woman are One — Kate": Tanya made her play for him, but he didn't need an intellectual sparring partner. Irina made her play for him, but he didn't need an "FB" (寝しいくん). So now it's my turn. I know what he needs _me_ to be, and Edward, Mommy's coming for you now.

**Chapter 6** "V. Whistling or Just After — Vasilii": Mommy. Love you. Play with me?

WARNING! This chapter contains very strongly implied depictions of maternal loss.  
WARNING! This chapter contains very strongly implied impressions of the "innocence" of an immortal child.

**Chapter 7** "VI. Icicles — Garrett": I'm an easy going, adventurous bloke in the midst of a den of gorgeous, Slovakian female predators. Succubae. A bloody dream come true, right? Yeah…well…not so much.


	2. I: Snowy Mountains — Irina

I

Among twenty snowy mountains,  
The only moving thing  
Was the eye of the blackbird.

* * *

I am Irina of the Denali coven. I have existed for one thousand years. I am a succubus.

One would think that after one thousand years there would be no surprises left to see, but these last four hundred years has seen surprise pile on top of surprise, and instead of things settling down like they should, they only get worse and worse.

Case in point: first the Volturi come knocking to kill our mother because of a brother none of us knew we had. Vasilii: the little two year old immortal child's name was Vasilli, and he didn't even know what what happening and why as they burned him, he just clung to his mommy, our mother, as she clung to him, a guilty apology in her eyes to us as she burned.

Of course, now we had the Volturi looking at us. Never a good thing to have. They imprisoned us because of our nature to determine what to do with us.

The Volturi only ever "do" one thing, but, surprise! they decided to grant our freedom after a little test that I could have done in my sleep, that is, if I slept. Caius? Please! So easy to seduce, and if getting past Athenodora unnoticed was any simpler, I would have to admit she was blind.

What a disgrace to our sex! She didn't have one suspicious or cunning bone in her body. You'd expect something more from a vampire fifteen-hundred years my senior, but no.

After 60 years as the "guests" of the Volturi, one would think my sisters and I would have a joyous reunion, but here come Kate with her new "daughter."

"Lilly, this is your Aunt Irina. Meet your niece Lilly, sister," she said to me, and I did control myself and my thoughts for Kate, but this? A newborn? Didn't we have enough trouble getting out of Volterra without trespassing on our "welcome" already? I can't believe they marched in lunch for Kate and allowed that lunch to come out as her daughter. Were the Volturi getting soft? I would have thought that if the image of Mother burning wasn't burned into my eternal memory.

Okay, I admit that Lilly did fit in — I do so love her dearly — but she was just a vampire and nothing more. More than that, she was fifteen when she was changed, and Tanya — _Madame Tanya_ — had rather strict rules as to what went on in front of her. I'm discreet and tasteful, but really! Having an eternally curious _and_ naïve girl in the house really puts a damper on my activities. This is a coven of succubæ, not a day-care center!

But right after that, not even one hundred forty years later _Madame Tanya_ comes up with the brilliant idea of abstinence. We thought it was a joke, but then she started in with her reasoned arguments, and before you know it we're all vegetarians. I really wonder sometimes about Tanya. I think that since she's the eldest and feels the weight of responsibility since Mother was destroyed that she thinks much too much. I mean, it's hard to believe she's a succubus sometimes, using that brain when she should be exercising some other skills on occasion. But no, she's got her novels she's writing and her Deep Thoughts.

I tried to persuade her to start abstaining _after_ our bicentennial visit to Volterra, but you know Tanya.

I was sure we would all be a pile of ashes on that "visit," but, surprise, again! They had recently had another guest — a _voluntary_ guest — who had been preaching that gospel of abstinence to them. That vampire had more than one hundred years abstaining. Inconceivable! No getting Tanya off this fad now.

The Volturi watched us for a while and then let us go without incident this time, and I had no new nieces … another plus.

But not even fifty years later along come Eleazar and Carmen, formerly of the Volturi. I wanted to do exactly what Kate wanted to do: burn them to the ground, just has they had done to Mother. But they sang the abstinence song, and Tanya …

You know, some day Tanya and I are going to have a little chat. It would be cruel to compare her to Aro, after what was done to us, but, just like him, she had all these little pet projects. That's fine, but bringing them into our family?

Like this little pet project I've got beneath me. Every single thing about her screamed for her destruction: newborn, romantic, egotistical, stupid.

I mean, really! I thought I had seen it all, but along comes something I would have never have dreamt: a vampire with two humans in her coven. Of course I've seen humans fall for vampires. I've even seen vampires fall for humans. But the vampires were smart enough to change them, not to bring in another human to play "friends" with. Of course there'd be a mistake! Of course one of them would be turned, but does she turn her human lover to make it all right? Oh, no: she dumps the newborn "friend" at our doorstep, and what does Tanya do?

Newborns. I hate newborns.

I hate this one especially. Covering her romantic notions with callous randiness, as if I couldn't see through that façade, but when she made eyes at Lilly, I decided it was time to teach this newborn vampire some manners, and a very healthy respect of succubæ.

I drained her down to the very last little spark of her existence, and I was sorely tempted to take that, too, just to see if a vampire could be destroyed by our power, but I know Tanya, and Tanya knows me. Having one thousand years of shared experience makes pleading ignorance a rather difficult exercise, and I wasn't willing to spend the next thousand years in Tanya's ire for a little experiment now.

But I did tell our newest newborn a thing or two as she lay there, totally drained. I told her about love, real love, not this romantic fluff she felt as she pined for her little _human._

_Romantics._ I am convinced that all the troubles in the world can be attributed to them. I had just finished reading Koijumi Yakumo's _Kwaidan, _and could not help but laugh at his very skewed representation of me as the Yuki-onna. He wrote that I fell in loved with a _human._ He wrote that I was a good little wifey and had several children by this human. He wrote that I melted away at the mere mention of my description.

_Please!_

I was _there._ Where do you think the legend of the Yuki-onna came from? A woman as white as snow that drained the life of the humans who dared to approach where I roosted? Mother, Tanya and Kate weren't as amused at the little legend I was creating, but humans needed a healthy respect of us, and I was providing that respect. The message was simple: you stay off my mountain, and maybe I wouldn't kill you. Those that did trespass ...

I remember one particular group. I saw a young Japanese man going for a mountain climb with friends for what they hoped to be an outing of some fresh, clean air away from Edo and their duties.

What they came across instead was me.

I couldn't hide my smile. I leapt on one of them, drained him, and then proceeded to kill all but one of the others. He thought he was making an escape from me. I let him believe it. Besides, a legend needs a messenger, and I made sure he had a particularly interesting message to deliver. I watched him run for his life, tumbling down the mountain. I guess he somehow survived and lived to tell the tale of me, the Yuki-Onna (雪女), the Snow Woman, who glides over the top of the snow, so serenely killing his friends.

His message got through, even though he must have been thought a babbling idiot, because a rescue party came looking. I sent them packing. They returned with stories of men frozen in the snow, their throats ripped out, drained of their blood, and of the woman who came among them, untouched and untouchable, grabbing one of their party, flying away to the peak.

And after I drained my latest victim, I sat atop an abandoned ærie, listening … pleased with the legend I had created.

_That_ is what happened, not this romantic fluff this _Kwaidan_ story peddled.

And this newborn vampire, so in "love" with her little human lover had no idea what true love is. She was so far gone in her longing she didn't see that as soon as her cute little human girlfriend died she'd be less of a shell than what I just now left her as. She didn't know real love. But I know. _I love my family._

Why do I follow Tanya? Because she is my sister, and I love her. I have loved her for one thousand years. I have loved Mother for one thousand years, even though she ceased to exist _more than 400 years ago._ I love silly, playful Kate and her silly, playful daughter Lilly. They are all silly in their own ways. I even love the newcomers Eleazar and Carmen. I would do anything for them, even something so antithetical to my nature as to abstain from human blood. Ever get near a bear? They stink, and they taste worse. But I drink them, because I love my family.

That, you little newborn, is love, not this romantic pining that has you so twisted that you lust after a little human girl. Get your head on straight, or you won't even last one hundred years. You are a vampire; act like one, not like a stupid little puppy dog. The world is a harsh place, full of surprises waiting to crush weak creatures like you. I know.

* * *

**Chapter Postlude: **Of course, the creation of the legend of the Yuki-Onna all happened (that is, it may or may not have happened) hundreds of years ago, perhaps more than four hundred years ago. So perhaps the Volturi's attention may have been caught not by an immortal child, nor the noises in some quarters of the legends of succubæ, but perhaps by the extravagant vanity of one legend-making vampire?

Perhaps Irina has that on her conscience? Perhaps she blames herself for her mother-creator's destruction? Perhaps, thereafter she swore to do right, always, to toe the line and make sure all others did? Perhaps Irina's motivation for going to the Volturi was out of a sense of justice, correcting her wrong with her right, as well as the other reasons?

Perhaps. But, … perhaps not.


	3. II: Three Minds — Eleazar

II

I was of three minds,  
Like a tree  
In which there are three blackbirds.

* * *

I am Eleazar, formerly a Volturi guard, and now of the Denali coven ... finally. _Gracias a Dios!_ I have existed for three hundred years. I am a vampire.

I suppose you are wondering why an ordinary vampire would join a coven of succubæ. Or you may not be wondering at all: here I am a man, _muy macho, _where else would I go, other than to satisfy three insatiable beauties?

It's not like that. _Si, _I am Spanish — in fact, Castillian, even — _si, _I am a man, and _si,_ Tanya, Irina and Katrina are three insatiable beauties.

But no.

The only thing that will truly satisfy a Spanish man is a Spanish lady, and for me, that Spanish Rose is my Carmen. No offense to my (now) dear sisters, but the cold demeanor of Slovakia ... _gracias, no_. I always get the feeling that they are sizing me up ... because they are. Carmen always frets over this, but I'll take my Carmen's fiery temper any day over the cold calculation of Tanya or (especially) disdainful Irina or even playful Kate.

So why did I remove myself and Carmen from Volterra, remove us from the most powerful coven of vampires in the world and risk our existence by knocking on the door of a family for which I was instrumental in its decimation?

Because I was starting to connect the dots.

I am no fool. I have been around for a while. In fact, most of my existence has been with the Volturi. I've seen what happens when Lord Aro is defied. Lord Marcus and Lady Didyme thought about leaving the Volturi Triumvirate, but what happens? Lady Didyme is destroyed, Lord Marcus goes into a state of quiescence from he has not emerged for the _last fifteen hundred years,_ and five members of his guard are summarily destroyed for _possibly _aiding or for _possibly _abetting Lady Didyme's destruction.

Along with this internal purge there were the external purges. First Lord Marcus wiped out the Carpathians, and that made sense, but then, every century or two, a coven or two needed to be destroyed for some reason that was an offense to the Rule. The odd thing about these purges: one vampire was always granted clemency. A gifted vampire. And this newly reprieved vampire? It seemed, most often, to end up in Lord Aro's guard.

How did you think we ... that is the Volturi, I mean ... end up with Chelsea? Could you possibly imagine a sweet girl like her, or, come to think of it now, Renata, being a gray-cloaked instrument of justice? Chelsea and Renata? Joining the Volturi?

No.

I can think these thoughts now, so long as I never touch Lord Aro again, because if I do, I know what awaits me. Questioning the Volturi? The only surer way to destruction is to attack one of the Three directly.

The real purpose of these purges? The real purpose of any purge? Keep the enemy weak, and the oppressor strong, for, after all, the only threat to the Volturi are other vampires.

Humans would be a threat, if they knew vampires existed, and if they knew the _Volturi_ existed, but that's why we have the Rule, don't we? And when the Rule doesn't work? Well, then there's always the Black Plague, or the pogroms, or ... the Great War.

What, did you think that one Serbian assassination was the catalyst for millions dying? Millions, that is, in the Old World, clinging to old beliefs? Beliefs like the existence of vampires? Notice how the modern era has no room for these superstitions that the old, now dead, peasants clung to so tenaciously?

It's not even called the Great War anymore: now it's called World War I. But that, too, is a misnomer. World War II finished what World War I started. What was that? The purgation of every human mind of the reality of vampires. Vampires are so passé, so Old World, so last century. This is the modern world, with jet æorplanes and automatic machine guns. Modernism has no room for vampires.

So, with the humans under the sway of modernism, that is, posing no threat, there's only one real threat to the Volturi: an organized resistance of the rest of the vampires.

Funny how that there seems to be no covens having more than three vampires in it these days. There used to be larger covens. Where did they go? Lords Aro, Caius and Marcus know: they are old enough. They know, and they work, even unmoving Marcus works, to keep covens small and scattered. One nomad vampire? Not much of a threat. A mated pair? Too busy with each other to cause us any damage. Three vampires? Hm. Four, or more? Obviously in violation of the Rule somehow, but how? Since no covens existed over three that we knew of, there was no need to keep tabs on them. But there was that one coven ... _this coven ..._

So, we had special guests at Volterra four hundred years ago, and they revisited us two centuries ago. Three succubæ. Well, three succubæ after we eliminated their "mother" and her immortal child.

The last visit was odd. They didn't eat. They explained that they abstained now, just like that nomad, that doctor, Carlisle Cullen, who had visited us before.

Vampires rejecting their true nature? We labeled them all as abominations. But I thought about it for a while. Here is the change; here is the shift. The Volturi represent the established power, and they will not be uprooted by the established populace, because they have their eye on them. They have their eye on the "vegetarians," too, but they view them as harmless oddities.

As all usurpers are viewed.

And perhaps they are, but I think not. They may preach "Peace, Love, and Animal Blood." They may meekly follow the rules and the Rule ... and the _Imperatum Volturum_, but when push comes to shove, they will defend themselves, and that defense may even include a preemptive strike. Or a vengeful one.

_Impossible!_ you say, but it's happened before. Castle Volterra has been attacked, even one of the Three has been disabled. So, even though all the attackers were destroyed, the attack itself succeeded. Imagine that, an attack against the Volturi succeeded! _Impossible,_ you say? It turns out that it wasn't so impossible, after all.

If history teaches us anything, it's this: what happened five hundred years ago can happen again. In fact, it will. History does repeat itself.

And if there's anything that can take down a vampire with ease, it's a succubus. And the Denali coven has three of them ... with a grudge against Volterra.

All this I dared not even dream to think while in Italy, that is, while glued to Lord Aro's arm, but now ...

Now came the real problem, because I was presenting myself and Carmen to the Three Fates: Death, Death, and Death. That's what they wanted for Carmen and me; I could see it as clear as blood.

Yes, I am "just a vampire" to these succubæ. But I have my own little gift. It's not all that little: it took a good deal of convincing to leave the Volturi guard with my hide intact, it took a good deal of convincing to join my new coven ... before they took my hide intact.

No, my gift isn't the art of persuasion, but I know vampires that have that gift, which is a very useful gift. No, most consider my gift of seeing others' talents, but that's not exactly correct. I see others as they are.

I see what they are made of, ... and I see what they want.

So, yes, I do see that Kate is the only "talented" succubus of the lot, I mean, talented above what a normal succubus' power is, but I see the three of them, I see their want.

Yes, the bloodlust is ever present, and it took a good many years of training to see past just that to see the "hidden" talents of gifted vampires. But there is another want that succubæ have: lust. Like bloodlust for a vampire, these succubæ are in constantly at war with their want. It's a physical hunger for them, just as the bloodlust is for an ordinary vampire.

They've had one thousand years to smear a veneer of civility over their carnal desire, but I see it as clearly as I see their bloodlust: they want.

They want me.

They also want to destroy me. And Carmen.

Carmen had nothing to do with the destruction of their mother. Nor did I, for that matter. The Rule must be enforced, and the Volturi are the enforcers. This coven broke the Rule. That the three of them escaped destruction was nothing less than a miracle.

But that may not be the most diplomatic opening.

Perhaps the most diplomatic opening would have been to lead off with Carmen, but that? Impossible. Carmen is already beside herself, nearly dead-set against joining a coven of temptresses.

Nearly.

But facts are facts. After the disintegrated Carpathians, the Denali are the oldest coven in the world. And now they are the most powerful and largest coven in the world ... after the Volturi.

Three succubæ and one eternally adolescent vampire without gifts verses the Volturi guard, forty vampires, each of them with a gift or with an obvious advantage over a normal vampire. No contest, of course, but still ...

But still, they are together after one thousand years. But still, their powers as succubæ make each of them at least equal one-on-one with nearly any Volturi guard, even, under the right circumstances, one of the midnight-black guards, like Jane or Alec.

But what has kept them together for so long? We (the Volturi) know what brought them together, but we don't know what keeps them together.

Tanya, Irina and Kate: if there were any way to describe three things more unlike each other, then that term would be used to describe these three. The intellectual leader, Tanya, the haughty Irina, and the carefree Kate: sisters by circumstance, but now closer than blood siblings.

Well, "real" siblings, as vampires don't have blood ... that is, their _own_ blood. Just like Lords Aro, Caius and Marcus: so different but so inseparable. Lord Aro mourned the loss of his own sister, Lady Didyme, hardly at all, but he grieves the lost participation of his "brother" Lord Marcus that much more deeply.

The Japanese have a term for it: the three crows (sanba-garasu, 三羽烏) which they apply to three players of their game called "Go" who excel above all others. Fujisawa with his whole board vision, Kajiwara with his tactical command, and Yamabe with his one move brilliancies (tesuji 手筋).

The Volturi have their three crows: Lords Aro, Caius, and Marcus.

And this coven has their: Tanya, Irina, and Kate.

Could the Denali coven become the new Volturi?

_Of course not! Of course not!_ you shout, and they would, as well, if I breathed a word of this to them. They would do quite a bit more than shouting.

So the light touch was required here. They are all very experienced: their "youngest" "daughter" was already two hundred fifty years old when we requested to join their coven, and now she is four hundred years old. A very respectable age for a vampire, for most of them don't last a decade, and then the next mark is at one hundred years when vampires go rampant, then three hundred years ... then it gets sketchy. That this vampire has made it through three major transitions is a testament to her, to be sure, especially as she was turned at such a volatile age, but it is moreso a testament to her coven, guiding her through these difficult sea changes, and giving her a reason to hold onto sanity and her existence.

Imagine that, being eternally fifteen for four hundred years now. Being eternally stuck in that time caught in between the carefree child years and the responsible adult years. Caught, eternally, being a teenager. Little Lilly's sunny disposition helped her a great deal, she was eternally happy, but sometimes ...

Well, this was not my concern at the time when Carmen and I presented ourselves at Denali. My concern then was getting into this coven, this new way of existing, and being accepted and in one piece, preferably.

And how did we manage that? It was simple enough. No, I didn't not mention my insight into the workings of the Volturi, and how that could be advantageous for a coven to have. Tanya and her sisters are one thousand years old; they don't need this pointed out to them. Besides, this "advantage" is a doubled-edged sword, isn't it? They could just as easy accuse me for spying for the sake of the Volturi.

No, I presented us as desirous to follow this new lifestyle of abstinence.

Were we particularly keen on this lifestyle? Not really. Vampires feed on humans; that is the natural order of things. _Humans_ feed on animals. _Vampires_ don't feed on animals: their blood is so disgustingly revolting as to be unpalatable.

Well, _almost_ unpalatable.

Tanya, their leader, sized us up right at the entrance to their _grand maison, _almost a _château._ I later learned that she was using her body to block her sisters' attempts to tear us apart.

Tanya was juggling more than several balls that day.

She heard our application, looking us over the whole time, deep in thought, and then she said exactly what I knew she would say.

"Let's go hunting."

This announcement pleased her sisters no end, and I found out soon enough why.

Tanya led her coven and Carmen and I to a herd of Caribou.

Their stench ...

Carmen asked if there was an alternative, and here Tanya chuckled, "There's always humans ..." as she pointed toward the town of Healy.

Carmen looked off in that direction, glancing at me, and I seriously considered that option.

Very seriously. After eight hundred fifty years of feeding off humans, enjoying the subtle nuances that each race and, in fact, each individual, presented, and then to be offered _this_ ... this revoltingly grassy, acidic, vomitous smell was almost too much. But we had to try; no matter what: we had to try.

I countered that perhaps a predator might be a better start for us, but their coven stared at us stonily.

"Over-hunting predators will get us noticed just as quickly as over-hunting humans," Tanya lectured us, scoldingly. "This is our primary food source, as it will be yours if you truly wish to join us. Come sisters; Lilly."

They didn't even look at us; they simply leapt toward the herd, diving right in the midst of them.

"Eleazar ..." Carmen began, looking almost panicked.

"Carmen, we have to do this. We've already discussed this. We _must_ do this." I scolded her.

"Why, again, was it that we ..." Carmen began.

"Carmen," I looked at her, and she sighed and nodded. I struck first.

The taste.

I will never forget the taste of that first kill. I thought the smell was bad, repulsive, even, but that was nothing to what was flowing down my throat. I almost spit it right back out. I, a vampire, almost spit out blood.

But it was blood, and it was sustenance, so I forced myself to continue drinking.

Did it get any better? No. Not during that drink, not for the next kill, and not even unto now, one hundred fifty years later. Each and every kill is a reminder of what I'm missing: human blood. Blood that satiates, blood that has an exquisite taste, blood filled with vitality and intelligence and strength, not this unsatisfying, tepid, disgusting, weak and watery dreck.

Then, as Carmen asked, why do we do it? It's not some moral imperative that my (now) sisters share. Why, then?

To answer that question, you must understand me. Reflecting on what I've said, it sounds like I'm some kind of power-hungry schemer, but that is not the case at all. If there is anything that my eight hundred and fifty years had taught me before I joined the Denali coven, it is this: I am not a leader. I have absolutely no desire to have a group of vampires looking to me to lead them to glory or to continued existence or to anything whatsoever at all. If this were at all the case, I would have been wearing midnight-black in the Volturi guard. If that were the case at all, I would have broken from the Volturi to form my own coven, create several newborns and carve out my own piece of the world.

There are vampires like that: ambitious, charismatic, and commanding. I am not one of them. I am a simple man with a useful gift and a mate to protect, that is all I am, that is all I wish to continue to be.

And therein lies the answer. For this age of the Volturi is coming to an end. Three thousand years is a good run, to be sure, and they are extremely powerful, and, despite what others say, extremely adaptable. But although they are exploring some advances, some changes they are unwilling to make.

These some changes, of course, are the ones that are coming.

One hundred and fifty years ago, humans had the technology to destroy a vampire. Concentrate enough gun power around a vampire, and — _BOOM!_ — no more vampire. Now-a-days ... now it doesn't take the concerted efforts of several humans to destroy one vampire. Now, one human can press a button and all of Volterra, and every vampire there, would be destroyed. If humans find out about the existence of vampires, we'll be hunted and exterminated, but not at all like we've hunted them — stealthily and with respect — no, we'll be hunted down like dogs.

And what would reveal us? What always reveals us, of course, a rampant vampire. That's why we have the Rule. Humans are not given to ponder on things that are out of their perception.

But humans are an easy problem to handle, up to now and for the most part. Besides enforcing the rule, there's oftentimes an insurrection to suppress. The biggest one in recent times was around Mexico City. That was devastating.

For the insurrectionists. What, did you think the Volturi languished for three thousand years? They rule the world because of their tireless efforts to rise to the summit of power.

But in spite of their single-minded focus, they are blind to the threat that these abominations, as they call them, pose. Carlisle was a solitary nomad when he visited on friendly terms. Now he has arrayed about him the most powerful vampires in the world in a sizable coven of equals. Seven vampires in a coven? Impossible. The Volturi have only five.

And I've heard that Demetri has been making similar noises that I made, planning to join that coven, ... excuse me, I meant to say _family_. Can you believe he kept his mate, Sarah, _human_ for _months_ before he changed her? Can you believe he is now abstaining, too, because of her? If this keeps up, the Volturi may end up outlawing mating for the guards.

I'd like to see the effect of that edict when that one comes down.

No, I'd love to see that: the Volturi may very well self-destruct.

And how about this, my new coven? Three succubæ and one vampire when Carmen and I joined, and that newborn Rosalie _Hale_ dropped us for tending (don't ever call her _Rosalie Cullen, _even though she does now belong to the Cullen _family_ (not _coven,_ as they all insist, they are a family), and it's very important to call her formally: _Rosalie. _I have heard she gets rather dangerous when called by any variation of that name). Seven powerful beings. And now, because of Lilly's insistence, we also have our own pet human, Lucas, that will have to be turned one of these days. Eight vampires in a coven.

And neither "family" is threatening to other covens. The strong family bonds for both our groups have formed internally have extended to each other. Imagine that: fifteen vampires, many of them gifted, in a mutually helping alliance. The Cullens, because of that tactician they have, even have ties to "normal" vampires from the southern covens. Battle-hardened vampires. Battle-hardened vampires with not very friendly feelings toward the Volturi after that last purge in Mexico.

I'm not saying that we're going to form a band and wipe out the Volturi, but, when the Volturi imagine some infraction against these "abominations" and make a move against one of them?

War.

War at the door of Castle Volterra, not carried out afar with what turned out to be the weak Carpathian Coven, not carried out overseas with what turned out to be the inexperienced and untalented covens in Mexico and Texas.

No, this will be a war with a battle-hardened, experienced, talented ... peace-loving, innocuous, seemingly harmless and therefore possibly underestimated ... formidable and provoked, and since they view each other as family, fatally determined enemy.

Would the "vegetarians" win the war?

Yes.

Perhaps they would win in one stroke, perhaps they would lose the first battle, but, in losing, they would show the world that the impossible had been accomplished: the untouchable Volturi had been touched, had suffered loses. Had lost. They may not win the first battle, nor the second, but, over time, they would win the war.

And that is why I abstain, for I am a man. Carmen is all about security, as all women are. She holds onto what is hers with all her strength: she holds onto me and to the Volturi, that safe, secure, comfortable and powerful position. It is, after all, the best place to be ... for now.

But discerning men see the world very differently than discerning women. The downfall of the Volturi may not be today, it may not be for one thousand years, but it will be someday. Someday, the Volturi will fall, and these vegetarians, these abominations, these organized, disciplined, closely-knit eaters of revolting blood, will be the ones to rise to take their place. The Volturi may be nice and comfortable and powerful and safe now, but this will not always be the case, and vampires are not anything if not survivors ... eternal survivors.

Why do I abstain? I abstain because it is the only way that I will certainly have my Carmen, safe and continuing in her existence, by my side in a thousand years time.

I am Eleazar, a vampire, of the Denali coven, three hundred years old, mated to Carmen. And I plan that statement to be true now and a thousand years from now.

* * *

**A/N:** Demetri's choice of a mate and switch to abstinence is told in the story _Perceptions_ by the author "The EarthSong."


	4. III: Autumn Pantomime — Tanya

III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.  
It was a small part of the pantomime.

* * *

I dropped the children off for their first day of high school.

Oh, I'm supposed to introduce myself first, aren't I? Externally I'm usually so calm and collected, so much in control, but, in the refuge of my thoughts I may be allowed some small room to make errors, mightn't I?

No, not even in my thoughts can I loose the binds of discipline that my leadership requires. I suppose I must start correctly now.

I am Tanya. I am a succubus. I am more than 1000 years old. I don't look it, do it? I am the head of the Denali coven, and I have been the leader of this coven of succubæ, and now vampires, too, for more than 450 years.

I don't know how it happened, but it was always assumed by everyone in the Denali coven that I would be the leader. After Mother left us, there wasn't even a conversation, when a decision was to be made, it fell to me to make it.

"Where will we go?"

"What shall we do now?"

The other two always asked these questions, most of the time silently, and at the end of the question, they would look to me to make the decision.

And I did.

Even I didn't question who would be the leader: leadership naturally fell to me, and I naturally took it.

That didn't prevent squabbles from happening. It seemed to be that Irina naturally argued against every one one my decisions. Most of the times not directly, but there would be a comment or a look. Sometimes there would be fights when she really felt strongly against one of my calls, like, for example, my decision for all of us to start abstaining. That was a rather vicious fight, for Irina loved her pleasures.

But at every decision there would always be something from her, and for most of the decisions, there would just nothing from Kate. "Whatever you say, Tanya," she would say, and she would go along with it. That was harder to deal with sometimes. I mean, what did Kate think? Did she assent with my decisions? Did she agree?

With Irina, I could tell. Whatever I decided, she would fight and find fault with it. But with Kate? I couldn't tell. She just went along with it. Except for the times were out of the blue she would just do something. That's how we got Lilly.

So it's been half an age that I've carried this weight of responsibility, and, instead of getting easier, it just gets harder and harder. I was just the newly minted head of the Denali coven after Mother left, leading "my" coven for a bare fifty years, when the Volturi came with Mother and little Vasilii accusing the rest of us of being co-conspirators. They burned Mother and that baby boy right in front of us. That's when I first realised that every decision I made could, unintentionally even, be the destruction of our entire coven. That's when I first felt the crushing weight of leadership as Kate and Irina looked to me in that crisis and in our imprisonment that followed.

But then weight of command just got heavier and heavier. First Kate brings in Lilly, then Carmen and Eleazar join us, then the newborn from Rosalie Hale's coven comes under our wing to mature away from the mortal in Rosalie's charge.

The mortal in Rosalie's charge. Another decision of mine that burdened me for a year before it was thankfully taken out of my hands. If I had abstained from informing the Volturi, then they would have had all they needed to say I was abetting the violation of the Rule. However, if I had reported this infraction, I'll be blamed for not "handling" the problem myself. Either way, all of us would have burnt. All of us this time, for we've all had seen her.

Thank God that issue "went away" when the Volturi came for her, but who would have ever had seen it resolve in the way that it did? Rosalie was right about that girl. It wasn't just love talking: there was more to her than what met the eye.

Much more. Thank God, again, I didn't decide to act then. Destroy Rosalie and her charge? _We're_ not the Volturi. Not all vampires, nor succubæ, for that matter, are hell-bent on destruction. Even if we had destroyed them, though, we would have covered our tracks, of course, ... but, of course, the Volturi would have found out. And when they found out what I had destroyed ... ?

Thank God I was frozen in indecision.

But there it was, the biggest decision of my existence, where my entire coven's fate rested on what I had to decide, and I was trapped in inaction, with no one to consult with, no one to turn to help for. Just me, only me, and this terrible, terrible quandry that an abstaining vampire just barely a year old presented me with her human "coven" when she left me that lanky and randy and lovesick surprise in our hunting grounds and then presented herself with the leader of her coven.

A mortal. A mortal as a leader of a vampire coven. Impossible. Inconceivable. Unthinkable.

Just the opposite of me: Tanya, the "leader" of the Denali coven. Such a natural and obvious choice. And what did I do when entrusted with that leadership? Froze. Froze like a deer in a vampire's sights.

Some leader I am.

Do you know what I wish? I wish it would all just go away. I wish Mother was with us, leading us with her assured and matronly touch. But that's not possible now, so I wish one of the others would take this mantle from me.

But who?

Irina? No. Underneath that spiteful critic is a woman hurting. She misses Mother more than the rest of us, so she takes it out on us and on her food and on anything and everything that crosses her path. She would lead but from a position of anger and hurt and her every decision would be a snap one: cold, cruel, callous ... the most hurtful course of action would be the one she would choose. And her self-destructive path would lead us all to destruction.

Kate? No. She is wise. Very wise. She hides it well under her happy-go-lucky exterior, but she sees and knows more than what she lets on. And that's the problem. She doesn't open up, she doesn't let you know who she is and what she's thinking, so everything that does come from her, when or if it ever does come, is a complete surprise. Her leadership would appear chaotic and arbitrary, and would just as likely tear up our coven from within as the wolves baying dressed in Volturi cloaks attempt to tear us up from without.

The only other real alternative is Eleazar, and he would be the best choice. First and foremost, because he's a man.

I know, I know: leave it to a woman to perpetuate the misogyny of this world, but it's a simple fact that men are listened to more than women. I always, always-always-always, when coming into contact with strangers or new covens have to deal with the negotiations of "Oh, _you're_ the head of this coven?" Yes, me, Tanya, a woman, is in charge. I more than sympathize with poor Siobhan ... I go through what she goes through, every day.

Before we had Eleazar along with Carmen, it was an easier pill to swallow, but now that we do have him, they automatically address him, even when I'm on the point of the spear. It's a simple fact that diplomacy is a man's job.

Men are built that way; women are not. Men look to the outside of their own group to build alliances. Women look to hold and to protect what is their own against the outside. Men see opportunities and partners who add strength to what is theirs; women see danger and enemies who seek to attack what is theirs.

But, Eleazar as the leader? He can't even fake the look of leadership. He's so mild, and not at all like Carlisle of the Cullen coven. No, to Eleazar, leadership is an abhorrence, and that puts Carmen right out of the picture, because where Eleazar goes, she follows.

I had thought that they were coming to wrest the leadership of my coven from me. I had hoped it, actually. But Eleazar's request was quite clear: he wanted to _follow_ our choice, not _lead_ it.

Oh, well.

That leaves the other two, but both are so helplessly lovesick that they can't see straight to make a balanced decision. I mean Lilly can't look away from Lucas, and the newborn? Lost in love, both of my new girls are.

I wish I was besotted. I wish that Edward Cullen hadn't ...

Well, if wishes were horses, I'd be full for months on the blood.

But it would have been nice. The Cullen coven came by in the '30's, and it was obvious for all to see that Edward was in serious need of a woman. I could have been that woman. I _should_ have been that woman, and then I would have been mated to him, and then _he_ would have been the leader of the Denali coven.

Sure, he was young. He _is_ young: he hasn't even spent one hundred years in this eternity yet. But his mind is strong, so, so strong. He's the only one who has managed to resist my allurments. After Irina's. And after Kate's. And with his gifts, he, like Eleazar, would be able to make decisions that took into account all of us.

And I would have been mated to a _man._ A man that matched me blow for blow in every intellectual plane. No man had been able to manage that until Edward.

He did have that silly sophist philosophy about vampires not having souls. Incredible. And it wasn't the modern rejection of all things non-material. He did believe in the soul, he just didn't believe _we_ had them. But we could work on that. He, being my mate, well, ... I could soften his edges, just has his sharpness and strength would complement and complete me.

But he also had that old-fashioned notion that _only_ he would be mine, forever afterward. And he just didn't see the plain fact that I am a succubus. I _need_ to feed my hunger, and I just can't have the one flavor, no matter how delicious the boy is. You can't survive on just tiramisu for the rest of your life, you need fruits and meats and vegetables and grains.

And so do I.

But, no: Edward just wouldn't see the way things are.

So there went that idea.

So now it's just me. Alone. At the top. The leader of the Denali coven. As it's always been ... as it will always be.

So now I'm the one dropping the "kids" to school. They aren't even kids. Lilly is four hundred years old, and Lucas is fourteen, but he has been fending for himself on the streets of Italy for years. He grew up and was handling himself and so much more than most adults do in this country. Neither of them have been to a regimented institution such as the Denali Borough Tri-Valley High School, where you have to ask permission to go to the bathroom.

Not so much a problem for Lilly, but ...

But of the two, I worry about Lilly the most. Yes, I realize that she's not a fifteen-year-old girl. Yes, she has four hundred years of experience.

But two hundred year of her experience was to use humans as food, and the following two hundred years, she abstained, yes, but she was entirely sheltered from all human contact. Now she's going into a school with one hundred seventy-five unique scents. All of them much, much more appealing than the carribou and bear we feed on now. What if one of them is her singer?

And what if one of them isn't?

Lucas is world-wise. Lucas is street-smart. But Lilly? A Catholic English peasant girl, sheltered from her own society because of her religion, and then, when _en route_ to Lord Baltimore's colony in the New World, her ship is targeted by the Volturi guard as their next banquet? It made perfect sense for them, as travel at the time was perilous, so off the whole ship went, crew and passengers, minus a few snacks, to Castle Volterra, but somehow Lilly got singled out. I think the Volturi wanted to see if succubæ could affect women.

Our newborn knows the answer to that one. Poor girl. There's a tip in that experience: don't irritate Irina!

But the Volturi left Lilly at Kate's door, and Kate, instead of eating her (we had all just dined, anyway), took her under her wing. Thankfully it was a mutual choice, but there Lilly has been for the past four hundred years. She lost her parents in that raid, but got a new mother in Kate, and Kate, in her solitude and imprisonment finally had a kindren soul, a daughter, in fact, to share in her loneliness.

I always pictured Kate as self-sufficient. I had always wondered why she came along with us. Irina puts up this intolerant and aloof show, but it's just that: a show. But for Kate, yes, I know she loves us, and we love her, but she always seemed so independent, so untouched, but it appears after sixty years of imprisonment by the Volturi, she _did_ need us after all.

After we were all freed, we were back together, and we went right back to playing our roles: aloof Irinia, indiscernible Kate, and me, Tanya, the leader.

But Lilly.

She was a daughter in her human life, and she is now the daughter in her new existence. She has a level head on her shoulders ... sometimes ... but she's always been with one of us for her entire existence.

And now she's walking into a school filled with self-important, incautious American teenagers and self-important, incautious American school teachers. All of whom think they have more poise, more knowledge and more right-of-way than this "home-schooled" wispy little pasty-faced waif of a girl, eternally fifteen.

I'm sure they'll pick on Lucas. He's short for his age, foreign-looking, and has an imperfect command of the American venacular. I'm sure he'll get into fights with the school bullies looking to pick on an easy target.

But I'm not worried about him. He'll get the tar beaten out of him, or he won't. He's not carrying any of his knives, so he can't do serious damage, or, if he does, it's because he's acting in self-defence. He does have a level head on his shoulders and isn't easily provoked.

But Lilly.

When they start picking on Lucas, or, if they ignore their instincts and pick on her?

We've told her and told her. We've warned her. We've prepared her as best as we can. But under that four-hundred years of experience, she's still just a fifteen year old girl with a very delicate and bruisable ego. And those four hundred years have been entirely sheltered. Why did we think we could just release her into the jungle that is an American high school?

I keep seeing it. They'll find her weaknesses in the first ten minutes at school. They'll find her weaknesses and start working on them. Children can be so vicious that way. Someone will lay into her, or, worse, someone will take an interest in Lucas, and Lilly intervenes, and words are exchanged, and a human, not knowing what they are up against goes to strike Lilly.

And she'll take the blow, and return one in kind.

Or she'll use her speed and grab then crush the offending hand.

Or she'll bite someone and drain them dry.

With one hundred seventy-five witnesses looking on.

She said she's ready. She said she's in control. We've agreed to give Lucas his human experience before he's turned, and now, with two young members in our family, one of them obviously foreign, the "home-schooling" excuse is now wearing too thin. People will come with questions.

So Lucas is an exchange student from Italy. That's plausible enough, so long as he goes to the school. We picked Tri-Valley because with that many students, it's easier for them to blend.

Blend. A Brit vampire girl, already pale white as a human, now whiter than an albino, and an Italian boy who's going to have quite a bit of difficulty in his American Lit class. Is this a recipe for a disaster?

Yes, it is. But hiding them and hoping no one would notice?

"Oh, who's the boy hanging at your house now, Tanya?"

How do I answer that? There are only so many necks I can snap before the pile of bodies become noticeable, and people would become suspicious when they see me and a man go into a place, and me with silver eyes just come out an hour or so or a day or so later, and the man dead inside, drained of his essence.

No. The wisest course is to hide our "kids" in plain sight. Lilly's shifting from the Denali PEAK homeschooling program to walk Lucas through his year of American high school during his exchange program. What we'll do next year, I have no idea. We won't turn him yet. He's just fourteen, and Lilly wants for us to wait until he's mature enough to make a decision about ... well, everything: her, himself, his fate, everything. And a fifteen year old boy, making those kinds of decisions?

So, this year is going to be very hard, yes, but next year is going to be ... well, interesting. And it all falls on my head. No matter how hard Lilly pleaded, it was my decision to allow them to go to school this year. And next year it'll be up to me to find a reasonable plan of action for them. It's all up to me. As always.

So, all I can do is watch my two children walk into the school grounds. And the funny thing is: they aren't my children. Lilly is Kate's "daughter" and Lucas is ... well, Lucas is all of ours now. But I am the head of the Denali coven, and that makes these two children, carrying their book bags on their backs, mine.

It makes my sisters mine. It makes the newborn mine. It makes Eleazar and Carmen mine.

It makes every action that every one of them take my responsibility. If Lilly lashes out in school, it'll be all of us who pay, and it'll be my fault for allowing her to take Lucas to school.

And that's the way it has to be. A coven needs a head, and I've volutarily placed mine on the chopping block, because I am the only one who is willing and able to do so for my family, my quirky family, whom I love with all my heart, whom I would willingly do anything for, including lead them, kicking and screaming, for the last four hundred and fifty years.

Why? Because I can, and because I love them.

That doesn't make it any easier. That doesn't give me much comfort, day after day, wondering if this decision will be the one to destroy us. But it does show me what I must do, for the sake of my coven.

It's funny, in a way, reflecting on my situation and Rosalie's. Rosalie is all about herself. She made a big deal about being responsible for the mortals under her care, and, in a way, she was. But only a blind fool would miss the deference she paid to her "charge" ... how everything she did related to that mortal. When the mortal girl's companion was attacked and turned, it was so easy for her just to give up that newborn to our care, because her overriding imperative was that girl. So, she made a big show about being the center of attention and having things go her way, calling herself the leader of that little group while it lasted ... until they met up with the Cullens again, and until the Volturi showed up, but, really, she wasn't truly a leader, she was lead. But she had her illusion: she thought herself a real leader; everything depended on her.

And she loved it.

But that's what being a leader is: everything depends on me. But, unlike Rosalie, where all her decisions were made for her, and, as much as she protested the opposite, everything was an easy call for her to make, my role as leader is so much more difficult. The Denali coven is not under the radar; in fact, it's always in the Volturi's sights, and our course isn't sure at all, as we have no commanding imperative. We just have ourselves and our way of life. Besides myself, we have one human boy, four vampires and two succubæ, all going in different directions, all looking to me to make the right decisions for all of them, everytime.

And that's what I _must_ do, all the time, everytime.

I am Tanya. I am the head of the Denali coven.


	5. IV: A Man and a Woman are One — Kate

IV

A man and a woman  
Are one.  
A man and a woman and a blackbird  
Are one.

* * *

I am Kate of the Denali coven. I am 1000 years old. I am a succubus. And, much to my own surprise, I am a mother to my Lilly. I am not a mother to Edward, I am not a lover to him. I could have been. It was a close thing, ... a close, close thing, indeed.

We had a new visitor coming from the southern regions. Odd as it may sound, one must be prepared for visitors, even in a remote an area as Denali, and one must expect them from any direction ... Carmen and Eleazar took the Great Circle short cut over the North Pole to join our family a century ago. It took every bit of self-control we had to accept them, knowing that Eleazar had just left the Volturi, especially so soon after our extended stay there. No, to be truthful, it took every ounce of my self-control not to rip him into shreds. But, the Volturi hadn't done that to us, deciding, for the only time in their history, on clemency. And, while they had ripped out the very heart of our family, and I had wanted to return the favor to the so recently departed member — was he a spy for them? — and while "an eye for an eye" was a vast improvement on justice 3800 years ago (Hammurabi's Code: you can read, right? ... look it up), it was no way to live now. When I first saw him, me, suffering from a broken heart, exiled in this remote and barren wasteland (breathtakingly beautiful, yes, but still a land of permanent exile), I wanted justice against this agent of my oppressor. No, I wanted vengeance. And what are we, if not Vindication Personified?

So, it was a curiosity how the outgoing Laurent, our new visitor, and the Ice Queen could be at all attracted to each other. But nothing to dwell on: one thousand years had given me many sights to see. One thousand years could be a good teacher, if one was an able student, and a valuable lesson to learn was to accept things as they are, not as I wished them to be.

Besides, the world offered many curiosities, some similar enough to this one: I've seen a few over the centuries, take by-the-book Caius and flighty Athenodora, for example. Edward and myself being the most obvious foil.

That is, if Edward and I were a couple. Ooh! Just thinking about that cute little petulant child made thinking difficult. The jutting of his arrogant chin. His delicate, large hands, and where they would caress me. His soft pouting lips and they way they would moves over mine and over my ... Okay, breathe, I reminded myself, but I noticed I was actually panting, earning curious stares. This was one time I was thankful I didn't have a body temperature, because it would be rising now.

Tanya always thought of Edward as hers, and both Irina and I allowed her play for him. She surely took her sweet time, but I knew such an attempt was destined to fail. Intellect seducing intellect? Please! She was subtle about it, insofar as a succubus can be subtle about these games: she kept the play light, free of innuendo, and was cautious, not aggressive in her hunt. This was so unlike her, so amusing, that it was difficult to control my thoughts, and my laughter, as I watched the game.

Really, it was a game she could not lose. She is easily ten times older than Edward, and his black little nihilistic self-congratulatory philosophy is child's play to subvert. Certainly night covers the world in darkness, but these self-absorbed types never open their eyes, confusing ignorance for blindness, to look at the new day that inevitably follows. Day follows night, as it has for the past millennium that I and my sisters have seen first hand. Child's play to win, but she would have to win gracefully so as not to bruise the boy's delicate ego.

She did win, of course. It took months, but as soon as he became aware of the possibility of the slightest chink in his protective shell, he actually ran from the room, and would have kept running if not for the devotion to his own family. I actually did laugh then, both at Edward's unmasked panic and Tanya's chagrined look, losing her catch just as she was reeling him in.

This did not please Her Majesty at all. It was very hard to smother my fit of giggles, and her cross looks made it even harder. But I do love her, so I tried to stop. I really did try.

She didn't talk to me for two days after that. Ah, Tanya! She's always so serious about everything.

Carlisle, bless him, talked our little Edward-lemming off the cliff's edge. Then Irina made it generally known that she was next in line. She certainly didn't waste any time, either, figuring cloak-and-dagger was not a game for Edward. She threw herself at him, mind and body ... and he threw her away from him, quite forcefully, too. What a sight, when Edward loses his temper like that! It fills me with desire to elicit that hot fury from him, so he would capture me in his arms, throw me onto the bed, and forcefully have his way with me. Boyish Edward, and his smoldering manliness, heats me to the core just thinking about it.

Whew! Where was I?

Oh, yes: capturing Edward. My sisters' mistakes were that they were appealing to the wrong things: his intellect and his baser instincts. Certainly he was smart, intelligent, even for a thirty-year-old boy, and he did have these feelings. But the problem was that he thought he was sufficient onto himself.

Yawn, that was a new one. "Look at me, mommy, I'm my own man! Aren't you proud of me?" At heart, Gallant Knight Edward was just a scared little boy, wanting his mother's love and approval, but he was too proud ever to see that in himself. Tanya tried: she wanted to make him her sparring partner (both intellectually and otherwise). Irina tried: she wanted to make him her "FB", her nesshii-kun (寝しいくん) — apparently, Irina not only left the legend of the Snow Queen when we passed through Japan on our way here, she also took some of it culture here, too: "FB", indeed! Both failed, because both tried to make him something for them. Now, it was my turn. I wouldn't make their mistake. I'd make me something for him. I reflected on this thought and on irony of what I'd become for Edward. Wasn't it interesting how the paladins and knights gallant had such a Marian devotion? All those proud and brave little boys looking for mommy's affection, like my proud and brave little Edward. I'd give him a few months to cool off, to allow his suspicions to ease, and to let him relax around us, again; then, I would make my play.

Edward, mommy's coming to take good care of you now.

The setting and timing were perfect: about a year after Irina's play, I just so happened to be along the path of his hunting trip. Hunting. He had lost control to his senses and was now filled with blood, and filled with the pleasure and warmth it imparted. An Edward so disposed is less inclined to think and therefore less inclined to act from his stupid intellectual motivations of gallantry. Or, that is, not to act from them, and to act instead from other motivations. I set myself blocking his way. For him to pass, he had to pay the toll: one little kiss. No hiding behind intellectual cloak-and-dagger, but, also, no grotesquely erotic coupling. Just. One. Little. Kiss.

Of course, one kiss would be all it would take. We are succubæ, after all, and we all have the ability to bend our prey's will entirely to our own. Once his lips met mine, he would be in my thrall. Mine. Forever. However I also opened the, well, innocence of my thoughts to him: he would be mine, but I would be his. I would not consume him; no, I would comfort him. He could still have his thoughts, the blackness now tempered with the bliss of happy companionship. He could still have his family, just slightly larger now. One big happy family. He could still have himself and his self-reliance, but now he would have me nurturing him in his sadness, praising him in his victories. I would be his mother and his lover. I pictured us holding hands, and cuddling affectionately in bed, embracing warmly: comfortably and comfortingly. We could move onto more when we felt (when he felt) ready; no need to rush things. Esmé wouldn't mind, I'm sure: it was written across her face, her desire that Edward find that special someone. His soul mate. Me.

He looked transfixed; he knew he was caught. Besides my sisters' talents, I have one of my own. I can stun. It last for just a few seconds, but, really, that would be all I needed. If he refused to pay the toll, as it were, then I could stop him, and I would stop him — he knew he could not run. Then I would take that kiss that he refused to give. But I hoped it wouldn't come to that: an Edward taken would be an Edward broken, and a broken man is not a man anymore. To destroy his will thus would be to destroy him. But, really, could my offer of happiness be that scary? Edward thought of himself as a self-sufficient man, but I saw the emptiness, the loneliness, inside that only I could fill. He missed his mother so much, he couldn't even face that in himself. I could, and I would be his mother, and so much more, for him.

My offer wasn't scary, but he looked scared. Then, suddenly, his face became crafty. That's my boy! I cheered. So much fight in him, I was so proud: he was never on to back down from a challenge. My little soldier, as he had wished to be in another life, fearless to a fault. I could see his thoughts as if I had his gift: he thought he had the strength to fight my spell, my binding him, body and soul, to me. Mmmm, I couldn't wait to experience that fight and that strength in a much more intimate place. Perhaps here was more intimate? Yes, there was a private grove not far from here we could retire to, if he was willing ... as I knew he would be.

"Just one kiss, and then I'm free to go?" he clarified, but I had a difficult time concentrating on what he was saying. His velvet voice, his luscious lips moving as he formed the words, his impish, dancing eyes which still managed to stare into my very depths, made me forget to breathe. Wait, I thought I was seducing him. After I recovered, I readily agreed. Two could be crafty, my dear Edward, and I closed my eyes and leaned forward, lips tingling in anticipation. Mine! I could barely contain the quiver as it shook my body.

But then that little scamp did something entirely shocking, but entirely in character: quick as lightning, before I could process what he was doing and open my eyes to claim him, or use my gift to freeze him, he raised my hand and pressed it to his lips, and, then, darted off like a cheetah.

I stood, frozen in place by the shock of his audacity. He stunned me! When the shock wore off, I couldn't help it, the laughter took hold of me, and wouldn't let go, even as I returned to the lodge and relayed the story to Esme. What a delicious little gentlemanly tyke! It would not be far off to say Loki could take lessons from this one.

Fair's fair. He paid the toll and made his escape. He also honored me, fully acknowledging my offer before declining it. I would honor him in turn: I would no longer pursue him; I would not force myself upon him.

But, I sighed regretfully, he still was that lost little boy. He was still incomplete but had resisted the combined charms of my sisters and me. The only man who ever had. He was convinced it wasn't I that completed him — an unfathomable thought — but ... someday, he would meet her, that person who did complete him. It wouldn't be a Tanya, or an Irina, or a me. We all tried for him and failed. It wouldn't be an Esmé: he loved her, but "only" as a mother. In fact there was not one vampire in the world that could catch his interest. What, then, would she be like? Obviously, she would be unique, something completely beyond my ken. She would match Edward, measure for measure.

I couldn't wait to meet her.

* * *

**A/N:** This vignette occurs in the 1930's before Rosalie joins the Cullen family. So, when Rosalie makes her play at Edward (by expecting him to fall for perfect, perfect her), and that doesn't quite work out, and they go to Ekalaka, and Edward claims there is nothing between himself and the mortal there ...

Well then, who could possible be Edward's "soul mate"? Even though Edward claims that 1) he doesn't have a soul and 2) he is perfectly "happy" on his own with the Cullen family.

What if two vampires fall for the same girl?

Nah, that could never happen! _What, never?_ Well, hardly ever ...


	6. V: Whistling or Just After — Vasilii

V

I do not know which to prefer,  
The beauty of inflections  
Or the beauty of innuendoes,  
The blackbird whistling  
Or just after.

**A/N:**

WARNING! This chapter contains very strongly implied depictions of maternal loss.  
WARNING! This chapter contains very strongly implied impressions of the "innocence" of an immortal child.

* * *

Screams.

_Mommy! Where's Mommy?_

Hear a singing voice. "What's the boy's name?"

Mommy's voice, "Don't hurt Vasilii! Don't hurt him!"

"Hurt him?" the voice sings.

Mommy screams.

Mommy quiet.

Crying. Want Mommy.

Cold arms.

"It's okay, Vasilii," the voice sings to me, "it's okay."

Hut flying away. Hut orange and bright and red and smoky.

I'm scared.

Cold kiss on the head.

"It's okay, Vasilii," she sings.

Ow.

It hurts. It _burns._

Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow.

_Ah! _ Thirsty. So _thirsty._

_..._

Is she Mommy?

Don't remember.

Don't remember.

She holds me. She kisses my head.

"I love you, Vasilii," she sings.

Mommy loves me.

She loves me.

Mommy. She's Mommy.

...

Playing with Mommy.

I jump. I jump high.

Mommy laughs.

I run to her. Fast. I hug her.

"Love you, Mommy."

"Oh, God, Vasilii, I love you so much!" She kisses my head.

Playing with Mommy. So much fun!

...

Thirsty.

Mommy says wait. Mommy says quiet.

Trying. So _thirsty._

Blood. There. Right there.

Mommy holds me tightly.

"Now," she whispers, and lets me go.

I leap; girl screams.

Blood. I drink.

Oh, so, so good!

"Vasilii, you are such a messy eater!" Mommy scolds me as she wipes my face.

Hug her. "Love you, Mommy."

She hugs me, hard. "Oh, my little Vasilii!" She kisses me.

I feel so good, so full, so warm, so yummy.

Mommy puts the girl underneath a tree.

I watch. It's funny watching Mommy lift up a tree. I laugh. Mommy smiles at me.

...

Mommy says wait here.

Waiting.

Bored.

Run and play.

Where's Mommy?

Run. Fast. Hear birds. Wow! I climb tree.

Birds fly away. I leap. Grab one. It's still in my hand. Quiet.

Whistling. "VASILIIIIIIIII!"

"Mommy!"

See Mommy. She grabs me.

"Oh, God, Vasilii, you scared me! Why did you run away?"

Show her the bird.

"Fix it?" I ask.

"No, sweetie, I can't fix it. It's dead. I can't fix it. Do you understand?"

I smile. Drop bird.

Hug Mommy. She's warm. Smells nice. Eyes ruby red. Cheeks flushed.

"Play with me?"

Mommy sighs. "Yes, sweetheart, yes, but just stay in the area next time, okay?"

"Okay." I smile.

...

Mommy dressed funny. All covered up.

Mommy says I have to stay in her arms.

Mommy says I can't drink.

Mommy scared.

Why?

Mommy walking so slowly.

Why?

"Okay, Vasilii," she whispers, "no drinking, no looking."

Mommy eyes so black. Mommy hurting. Mommy _thirsty._

I touch her cheek.

"Love you," I whisper.

"Shhhhhh. Sh-sh-sh," says Mommy.

_Oh! Blood!_

"Excuse me, miss ... oh, I mean, ma'am ..."

His voice is so rough. The scent of his blood is just seeping out of his pores.

Mommy holds me so tightly.

"Mommy ..." I whisper.

"You're _not thirsty,_ Vasilii," Mommy whispers so fiercely to me. Mommy angry.

But it _smells so good!_

"... is there anything I can help you with? You should be out here alone, it's not safe for a young woman and her child being out like this at night, you know. Vagabonds, murderers, and the creatures of the night ..."

"Thank you, sir, and you're so kind," Mommy's voice so nice to the food. "Might there be a weaver or spinner in town? I need to buy some bolts of fabric to clothe me and my son."

"That would be the Andropov house, ma'am, but it's much too late to be seeing them tonight ..."

His scent is hurting me, it is _so_ good.

"Mommy, _please ..."_ I beg.

Mommy holds me tighter. "Shhhh," she whispers angrily.

"... do you have a place to stay? I can't offer much, but there's a little room in my house ..."

"That's quite all right, sir." I can hear the panic in Mommy's voice, but I don't think he can. Why doesn't she eat him? "If you would just point out the Andropov house, I'll come back another time, but I do have to get home to my husband, as I'm sure you understand he'd be quite concerned by now ..."

"Their house is the third on the left there, see that shingle on their door, well, you could see it in more light, but I really should escort you to ... ma'am? Ma'am?"

His voice faded away into nothing.

"Vasilii, you did so well!" Mommy's voice cooed, "so, so well! I'm so proud of you, honey!"

She kissed my head. I smile. Happy when Mommy happy.

...

"Vasilii, run! _RUN!"_ Mommy screams. Mommy scared.

I run toward her. _"NO! Run away! Run away!"_

No. Want Mommy. Run to her.

Mans.

Mans holding Mommy. Why doesn't she kill them?

I will.

Grabs me. Holds _me? How?_

"Immortal child," says a man.

"_He didn't do anything!"_ Mommy screaming. _"He didn't break the Rule!"_

Mans laugh. One says: "His _existence_ breaks the Rule ... and so, now, does yours."

Struggling. Bite hard. Stone in my mouth.

"Hey!" man shouts. Goes to bite back.

"_NO!" _Mommy pleads. "He wants me! Just let me hold him! _Please!"_

Struggling. Biting on air. Man holds me at arm's length. Brings me to Mommy.

Mommy.

Mommy holds me. "It's okay, honey; it's okay," voice scared.

It's not okay.

"Love you, Mommy." Hate mans.

Mommy cooing at me. Holding me tightly.

...

Forest. Clearing. Large clearing.

Many, many mans.

Man talking.

Three womans screaming. "Mother!" Looking at Mommy. Old as Mommy.

_My sisters?_

"I'm sorry," Mommy says to them. "I'm so, so sorry."

One woman touches mans. They fall down. Runs toward us screaming. Big man knocks her down from behind. Mans jumps on them. Stone pieces flying everywhere.

Other two screaming _"No!"_ over and over, held by mans.

Man points at us.

Mommy holds me tightly.

"Vasilii, I lov-..."

* * *

**A/N 1:**

One Rule. No exceptions.

It didn't matter if Sasha, the mother of the Denali coven, was able to watch Vasilii up to this point. To the Volturi, there was the strong possibility that he may expose their kind, and that is more than enough to exercise justice.

All immortal children are to be incinerated, and any vampire that harbors such is equally guilty and must share the same end.

One Rule. No exceptions.

**A/N 2:** A child at two years of age, weighing less than thirty pounds and with a heart rate elevated to above that of an adult's, would be turned into an immortal child in less than one day, instead of the usual three days it takes for an adult to be turned into a vampire or succubus.


	7. VI: Icicles — Garrett

VI

Icicles filled the long window   
With barbaric glass.   
The shadow of the blackbird   
Crossed it, to and fro.

* * *

**Chapter Summary**: I'm an easy going, adventurous bloke in the midst of a den of gorgeous, Slovakian female predators. Succubae. A bloody dream come true, right? Yeah…well…not so much.

**geophf note:** This chapter is entirely written by the author Lion in the Land under my very stringent direction. To say it is an honor for this piece to have a guest author of this calibre is using even more understatement than even the proper Brit (teen) vamp Lilly could manage, so let me allow her awards to speak for her first:

Winner, Twilighted Original Fiction Contest, "Silly, Sexy, Supernatural" category, story: "Impressionism 101"

Nominee, Eddie and Bellie, Best Novel, story: "Add It Up"

LYDF rec: "Add It Up"

So, you are reading her fiction now that you know? Yes? Because it's that good.

So, we know that LiLa, as she goes by, is a recognized and awarded writer. We, that is some very privileged few of us, also know that she is a beta reader and editor at twilighted(dot)net. This is a very heavy responsibility, shepherding writers through the approval process at twilighted, but you wouldn't know this from her, because as an approving beta, she is pleasant, easy-going, forgiving, accepting and efficient. If you publish your works on Twilighted, you should count yourself fortunate to have her as your beta.

This is not an accident, or, in the Thomist sense, it is indeed an accident of her character, because LiLa as a writer is award-winning, brilliant, creative, lively, scintillating, and LiLa as a beta is exacting and efficient. LiLa as a person? LiLa has been a very dear friend.

In a very real sense. I think that's all that needs to be said there.

She's a young girl, unlike myself (that's me: a crusty old curmudgeon), but she has wisdom beyond her years, and this very wisdom permeates her telling of Garrett's peek into this fascinating coven living in Denali. Why is the coven fascinating? Because, in this chapter, the teller himself is just as interesting as the other members he observes, and beneath it all is the authoress' steady and playful and assured hand.

It is my pleasure to present Lion in the Land's chapter of Garrett's chautauqua, this Verse VI of "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird," about the Denali coven.

* * *

I am Garrett, citizen of the world. I am a vampire and have been one since the colonies won their freedom from the Brits.

A year ago I was in the open ocean air, surfing the swells off the coast of Madagascar, now I'm sitting in a poorly ventilated high school auditorium in Smalltown, U.S.A., awaiting the theatrical debut of the token human in my new clan, my family. I don't know how the humans can breathe in here. It's suffocating.

Of course, their attention's been taken off the poor air conditioning by the appearance of young Lucas and Lilly's reclusive family. We're quite a sight amongst the scruffy beards and flannel of the local Alaskans. The smiles and nods of the bouffant-headed hockey moms are friendly enough as the ladies of our coven walk past them and make a point of saying 'hello,' under Tanya's strict orders, of course. But there's a malevolent spark of envy deep inside the glares of the human women as they look upon the undead females; mothers and aunts in these parts are not supposed to look this good. Eleazar and I get a bit warmer of a reception. But we only nod curtly, again under Tanya's orders, and dutifully slide into the fifth row of metal folding chairs.

It doesn't seem smart to expose ourselves this publicly. The most interaction any of the family has had at the school is Tanya waiting in her car outside to pick up the children, or Tanya's occasional visits to the principal's office to straighten out the rare scrape that the kids have gotten into (always the other kid's fault, of course). Please don't tell Lillypad that I just referred to her as a 'kid.' One thing I have most certainly learned around here is to never refer to our little darling as a 'child.'

Even though she is one. And always will be.

_Shhhh!_ Don't tell her that, either.

But our appearance tonight was unavoidable. It's Lukie's big night, and not one of us was willing to miss it. Lillypad begged and begged us to come in separate groups and to "for the love of God" pretend we didn't know her. Turns out even high school misfits have a reputation to protect. But Tanya insisted that we are a family, and if we want Lucas truly to experience high school, then it's only right that we should show up in public to properly support and embarrass him.

It's rather ironic, really. Once upon a time I fought to free America from a King's oppression – only to end up in one of the new territories under the rule of an entirely different kind of monarch, Her Majesty, Queen Tanya, almighty ruler of the Denali clan. But she's a whole lot prettier than King George, I'll tell you that. And I have to admit that I've lit a firecracker under her more than once just to see those eyes flash and feel that wicked-sexy fury cascade off of her. If circumstances were different, I can't say I'd find the idea of kneeling at her feet with a thick collar and chain around my neck altogether unappealing.

But I belong to Katie. She's my girl. And what a girl she is! She caught me with my defenses down as she strolled onto that beach in Madagascar with her flirtatious waves bouncing around her shoulders and her mischievous eyes dancing. I'd only been there on a pit-stop, a reprieve between adventures, but Katie had come to discuss private business with the trio of beatnik vamps who called that place home. It seemed odd to me that the Madagascarians, who'd pretty much dedicated their existences to peace, love and ripping waves, would be involved in anything that could be remotely considered business, and I was curious. But Katie's curiosity about the uncharted territory – me – quickly overwhelmed my own.

Wish I could say I'd put up more of a fight, but when the voluptuous vamp cornered me on a thick branch high in the jungle canopy, I didn't see much point in resisting. Our frenetic activity caused our supporting limb to snap, and we tumbled and crashed into the earth. Without missing a beat, Katie flipped me over, pinned my hands above my head and expertly finished me off. I was impressed, to say the least. I'd never before had a woman so completely grasp hold of the reins and keep them like that.

Later on, when our hosts baited me into asking Katie to demonstrate her special power, she struck me motionless. No other lassie had ever been able to accomplish such a seemingly simple task: getting Garrett the Wanderer to stop. For the first time in my existence I was completely helpless under someone else's power. I'm not gonna lie – it was a complete turn-on, and it seemed to me that an adventure in the wilds of Alaska was in order.

Katie never asked me to come with her, yet she never showed any hesitation on the matter, either. That's the thing about her: she doesn't tell you. She smiles and she moves along, and she seems content and happy, but she'll never tell you that; she'll never express it in words, so it's all a guessing game with her. A game that I eventually won…

Cripes! Could somebody open a window in here? This is unbearable. The stuffiness is making the humans sweat, and as they shuffle impatiently in their seats, waiting for the show to begin, they are sending their various odors of feet and armpit through the air. Human scents that inspire venom to pool in my mouth, readying my body for just a taste. I lean in closer to Katie, hoping to neutralize the enticing human scent with her sweet, cinnamon one. She's chiding Lilly to stop glaring so vehemently at a gaggle of human girls who are nervously giggling at the photos in the program. Naturally, Lilly imagines they are ogling the very handsome snapshot of Lukie.

I lean across Katie and say, "Aww, come now, Lillypad, our Lukie is a real life Troy Bolton – basketball player turned High School Musical star. He's the next Zack Effron. You can't expect him to give any of us the time of day after this."

"Garrett!" Katie laughingly admonishes.

"Oh, Lillypad knows I'm only joking, don't ya, Lil? Anyone who's seen the way that boy pays homage to the very linty bits that collect under her toenails knows that she hasn't got a thing to worry about."

Lilly scowls at me and sticks out her tongue, but I see the tiny smile that she can't suppress.

She's actually got quite a bit to worry about. Lukie is still human. Sure, he adores the girl now, but the human heart is a fickle thing, and the boy is growing older, while Lilly stays perpetually the same. His tastes may change; he may get bored; any number of things could happen to draw his attention elsewhere.

Not so with vampires.

Vampires are eternal on this earth, and so are their passions. Once they've been snatched by love's sweet tentacles, they are no longer their own. They belong to the object of their affection, and all decisions for the rest of their eternity are aimed toward the welfare of that individual. It's the same with succubae…except that it's different. They can and do attach to one mate for eternity, but that doesn't mean that they give up their, er, extracurricular activities.

Succubae, like Katie and her sisters, prey on men's passions. It's their nature. It's who they are. Of course, feeding on the blood of humans is part of who they are, too, but they gave that up. And even though it sure seems easy for them, a lot easier than it is for me, I know they struggle with it, so who am I to ask Katie to cut back on the blokes, too? It'd be like asking someone who quit smoking to cut back on the gum, or the potato chips, or the coffee, or whatever it is they've replaced their addiction with. If she stops going for their Magic Johnsons she'll start going for their throats, and I gotta admit that option A is the far more humane…even if it kills me. Which it doesn't. Not anymore.

It's not that I fancy the idea of my Katie getting it on with anyone but me, and at first, when I realized that she had no intention of giving it up, we had many a row. I didn't understand why I wasn't enough for her, why she couldn't prey on me alone. But for a succubae to be truly satisfied, she must drain her victim of his essence. Repeated sessions in the frequency that Katie requires would leave me drained, weak, and listless, so she only 'snacks' on me as far as her succubatious needs go. She leaves me with enough energy to function, yet she's able to stave off her need to 'feed' on others for a bit longer than usual.

Still, every few months or so, she must join her sisters on their usual 'girls' weekend' foray. They go far enough away so that I won't have to wonder if the guy I'm looking at _knows_ my Katie. It's not a perfect arrangement, but it works for us.

And I certainly do reap benefits from my lovergirl's excursions. Katie is a wildcat, and at times our lovemaking is downright ferocious, but when she returns from her trips, with her pale silvery eyes and her appetite satiated, she's a different woman. She nuzzles into me like a soft little pussycat and peppers my chest with baby kisses, and I stroke her hair as we lay quietly together with no sense of urgency. She lets _me_ assume control, and I savor every sumptuous inch of her as I slowly take her back as my own. I know that I'm the only man that gets to see her like this.

To keep my mind off the other men, I go on my own walkabout while she's gone with her sisters, grasp a temporary taste of my old life, the days when there was no one but me to concern myself with. But these are celibate adventures, in case you're wondering. I don't have the succubus excuse to justify cheating on my Katie. And I wouldn't want to, anyway; she's all the woman I need. _She's all I need…_

The curtains slide apart just in time. They reveal another world behind them and open up this close auditorium that's beginning to press in on my chest like a boulder that wants to squash my incapacitated lungs. The play is _Grease_, and I smile when I see Lukie strut out in his greased-back hair and T-Birds jacket as he and the gang rib Danny about his summertime romance.

In this scene, it's Sandy's first day at a new school, and I feel for the little thing as she tries to assimilate and fit in. _Been there, sweetie_, I think to myself: I'd expected Denali to be cold, but I hadn't anticipated the brittle frigidity of my reception here. Walking into the Denali residence for the first time was like walking into a frozen museum filled with exquisite ice sculptures. No one moved, and everyone stared.

"Oh, relax," Katie had chided them. "He's not going to bite." Then she'd rolled her eyes at me, and we'd laughed at the vampire humor, just the two of us. But the statues stayed frozen, staring.

Tanya was the first of them to speak. "I'd appreciate a bit more notification next time you plan to bring home a stray, Kate," she said crisply. "The house is getting a little crowded."

"We can stay somewhere else," Kate offered hotly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Tanya answered. "You're family. You stay here. Garrett, welcome. You do realize that you won't be allowed to feed on humans for the duration of your stay?" she said, cutting to the chase.

"Yes," I'd answered. "Katie explained. I'm perfectly prepared to oblige." Prior to this, I'd abstained from humans for brief periods in my existence, when I'd been far from civilization with no humans in sight. But that had only ever been for a few weeks at the most. My stay here was more open-ended; I'd stay for as long as Katie'd have me. At least, that's what I'd professed to her the whole way home…

I unbutton the collar of my shirt. What the bloody hell is going on here? I'm vampire! I don't get uncomfortable. I look down the row at the vampires I'm with. They're fine. Cool as cucumbers. Why is my throat constricting? This is something more than the enticing human scents swirling around me. Why do I feel like I need to inhale gallons of clean, crisp air? Something … anything other than the thick shit that is clogging my throat in here.

Danny and Sandy run into each other on stage, and the games begin. Romantical troubles of the young. He likes her, and she likes him, but he's got his rep with the T-birds to worry about, and she's got her dignity to preserve. Grown-ups play games, too. Even centuries-old grown ups. I'd poured my heart out to Katie on the way up here, and every day since we'd arrived. She smiled, and she wrapped her arms around me and rubbed her pretty nose on mine, and never said a damned word in reply. She never told me she wanted me here, never begged me to stay when I told her I felt unwelcome and that it would be best for me to move on.

I suppose you could say she said it with more than words. But existence here is hard, damn it! I've given up my entire way of life to be here. I'm giving up human blood! Sometimes a guy needs to know he's not being played the fool. Sometimes a guy needs to hear the words. And then, just a few days ago, I hit the jackpot. We'd just finished a particularly fun hunt – wolves. Katie loves hunting wolves, because they often prey on the gentle elk and caribou that she's far too fond of for a 'vegetarian' vampire. After we drank our fill, she leapt on me from behind and stunned me so that I fell flat. She teased me a bit and then set me loose.

Overcome with the spontaneity of the moment, I'd raked my fingers through her hair and kissed her all over her lovely face. "Katie girl, you know you're my whole world. And I know you love me, but I've gotta know – am I your one? Am I the one you see yourself with for the rest of eternity?"

I'd never asked before, because I was afraid of asking too soon, before she felt it, and I was afraid that even if she said 'yes,' she'd only be telling me what I wanted to hear. When a vampire falls in love, they are changed, as if branded, until the end of time, but that change isn't instantaneous. It can take a while – vampires _fall_ in love, as with humans. If I asked too soon, I could ruin everything. But I'd already foolishly acted on the impulse, and there was no taking it back.

I held her face steady and stared into her golden eyes. She returned my gaze steadily and answered in her rich, honeyed voice, "Yes, Garrett. Yes. You are my eternity." And she'd pressed her lips together in the sweetest smile and held my eyes, and I knew. She wasn't merely telling me what I wanted to hear. She meant it. Every word. I'd won. Katie had fallen completely in love with me, and she was mine for eternity. I smiled back at her.

And that smile was the finest piece of acting that I've ever done.

When I should have been raging with joy, I was filled with an overwhelming panic. Katie had made the change, but I hadn't. I thought I had. I honest to God thought I had! Katie is wonderful, the most wonderful woman I've ever been with, the only woman to have kept my attention for this long, the only woman I've ever followed across the world. Then why at that moment did I have to resist the urge to shove her off me and run away? When a vampire makes the change, there is not doubt, no second guessing. Am I defective? Incapable of making the change? How can I not be in love with her?

_Stop being stupid, Garrett. _Of course I'm in love with her. I'm just a little resistant after being on my own for so long, so I had a temporary setback. That's all. I'll get past it, and life in Transylmayberry will go on. Everything will be fine.

Lukie's up on the stage again, belting out "Greased Lightnin'" with the other boys and shaking what his momma gave him. He is on the cusp of being a man. Until I came along, he was a boy growing up in the midst of a den of ladies and one, uh, Eleazar. Nothing against the Spaniard: he's a great person, but his reticent personality and guarded mannerism make him a less than perfect mentor to guide a spirited boy like Lucas into his manhood. Lukie was the first in the extended family to warm up to me, and it was almost immediate. He'd been well on his way to turning out to be this little math nerd that all the bigger kids picked on, but now I'm proud of that boy! He's turning out to be a fine young independent man, just like me. It's obvious that he'd been craving a little more testosterone in the household.

Lucas and I talk endlessly about basketball; we wrestle and break things, and although I'd never unleash my full strength on him, I don't take it easy on him, either. I've gotten Lilly to release her death grip on him, reasoned with her and helped her to see that a guy needs a little space, and I've introduced the kid to a crapload of TV – can you believe he'd never even seen "Jackass" before I came along? And I will be the one to take Lukie out for his first beer. The jury is still out on exactly when he'll be transformed, but no matter his age, I'm making sure the boy takes advantage of his last chance to drink a cool pint of ale without it tasting like piss and then having to retch it up later.

The girls in the front row squeal as my boy's skinny pelvis rocks back and forth, and Lilly grinds her teeth together while a soft growl rolls from the back of her throat. Katie pokes her teasingly, and Lilly swats back. They both start giggling, and the people in the row in front of us shoot irritated glances backwards. Tanya leans forward from down the row and raises a warning eyebrow. Katie shoots her a mock salute, and all attention is back on the stage.

Queen Tanya, snapping the troops back in line. That pretty little filly has an arduous task, guiding this ever-growing family of vampires surreptitiously through their existence. I'll admit that a group this size requires leadership, but I've never been one to take kindly to being told what to do. The first time I stood up to Tanya and questioned her direction, she didn't snap my head off like I'd expected. She'd merely glared at me, stuck to her guns, and later took me on a private hunt to discuss it. She actually listened to me, and the next time she handled things a bit differently. After that, she'd occasionally ask my opinion on weightier matters, and I realized that she didn't want to be a tyrant. She hadn't seized control of the clan – it had been forced upon her, and the others had been content to leave her in charge.

Irina pitches a fit at every decision, but she's all smoke and no fire, and rarely has a constructive counter suggestion. Eleazar offers council, but he's timid in his opinions – conciliatory. I tell Tanya what I see, exactly how I see it, no punches pulled, and she seems to appreciate that. We've become sort of like the Godfather and his conciliary. From what I understand, Tanya has done a damn good job for all these years, but no sane person wants the welfare of an entire coven on their shoulders, especially with the addition to their numbers in the last century. I've been able to alleviate a tiny bit of the pressure on her.

So, you see, Katie's not the only one I've got obligations to around here. _Obligations_. What a hideous word. How in the hell did I get here? One pretty face, some amazing sex, and I'm as trapped as a beaver in a snare…

I can't breathe. I don't need to breathe, but I want to breathe, and I can't. I can't draw a bloody, damned breath in here!

I lean over to Kate and say, "Excuse me, sweetheart."

"What is it?"

"I dunno," I answer. "It's the heavy scent in here, I guess. I need some clean air to clear my head."

"I'll go with you," she offers.

"No! No, I'll be fine. I just need a little free space, okay?"

"Yes, fine," she answers, looking at me with a slight furrow in her brow.

I excuse myself through the row and bust out the front doors of the school. Blessed blasts of icy air hit my face, and I suck it in gratefully. _Get yourself together, Garrett. _

A blackbird shoots suddenly over my head, and I'm startled for the first time in over two hundred years. My attention snaps to the airborne creature as it flies off…off to distant places…alone…free as a, well, bird. It swerves from its path and stops in a tree. My insides sink. I really wanted to see that little bastard fly on. Why did it stop? It's got the whole wide world out there, no one to answer to.

Unencumbered, limitless adventure awaits.

I sigh and turn my head to glance over my shoulder at the cramped building behind me. There's a wonderful woman inside who loves me…waiting, expecting me. And there's an open world spread out in front of me…waiting, calling to me. I am Garrett, and I don't know which way to run.

* * *

**geophf note: **So, do you think you have a take or a voice to express a view of the Denali coven? I'm all ears.


End file.
